


the sepia tones of love from the past

by ImberNox



Series: Juban Week [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Day One - Past/Future, Getting Together, JuBan Week, M/M, when will i write a juban fic that doesn't involve play pairings?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26831911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImberNox/pseuds/ImberNox
Summary: Time passes faster than anyone would truly like it to.  Seven years is a long time, and time can distort relationships just as much as it may solidify them. Living alone in his apartment, Juza thinks about Banri : now away across oceans and continents. After the day is done - after rehearsals with the rest of Autumn Troupe, after his day job, and his calligraphy classes - sleep holds for him the image of Luciano in the countryside far from Chicago.
Relationships: Hyoudou Juuza/Settsu Banri
Series: Juban Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957198
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	the sepia tones of love from the past

Juza realizes that he’s dreaming almost as soon as he becomes aware of what’s around him in the first place.

The wallpaper and the curtains and carpet that, for whatever inexplicable reason, always show up in these dreams are present, and there’s a deep-set _feeling_ that clouds of cigarette smoke are drifting around him even though he can’t smell it. After all, he can never seem to smell or taste anything from his dreams.

But there’s also the four-post bed and the quilted cover that has embedded itself into his memory from years of similar dreams, and the gramophone in the corner of the room is in its same, ever-lasting position. The snazzy sounds of saxophone, snare, and clarinets float out from its bell.

He knows this dream, and he knows it even before he sees Luciano standing at the window.

Juza’s always thought that Luciano was beautiful. Maybe it’s the pinstripe suit he usually wears and the way it complements the color of his hair, maybe it’s the deep red of his dress shirt and how alluring it is to see Banri, half-dressed in their changing room, in just the red and suit pants. Maybe it’s the way his unmistakably modern piercings peak out from the strands of his hair and contrast the old-fashioned way Luciano carries himself. But the easy confidence with which Luciano carries himself is definitely a leading factor.

The role was undeniably written for Banri.

Luciano stands at the open window in a moderate state of undress. His red shirt is still tucked, and he has his belt on, but it’s half-unbuttoned, and the jacket to the suit is nowhere to be seen in the room. The wind from outside billows the lace curtains in the same gusts it rustles Luciano’s hair.

And Luciano turns to Juza with a remarkably soft smirk on his lips, inviting Juza further close.

It’s when Juza steps within arm’s reach that Luciano’s smile softens, and he turns to gaze out the window once more. Another gust of wind, softer, rustles the curtains. The lace obscures Luciano’s face for a key second.

“You miss it,” Luciano says, and his voice is deep but soft like the notes of the saxophone over the gramophone’s speaker.

Juza wants to ask Luciano what he means, but he realizes that, in this dream, he can’t seem to speak. He shuts his mouth, and Luciano looks over at him with a joyous twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t you?” Luciano asks. Juza swallows nervously. “You miss the thrill of it all.”

Juza does. It’s a dream, he knows. It’s been seven years since their debut performance of _How Wonderfully Picaresque_ : seven years since he, Banri, Omi, Taichi, and Sakyo met and learned to work together to perform their most memorable work of their careers. It’s been three years since they’ve all lived under the same roof. And, yes, Juza _does_ miss it.

But it’s more than just the family they had together amongst themselves, with Azami, and amongst the other troupes.

Luciano’s right. Juza misses _Picaresque_. He misses the quiet cadence of Benjamin’s voice in the background noise of the hospital with the morning birds chirping outside the window and the way Luciano looks like he does right now.

He suddenly wants to know what Luciano’s looking at outside that window. But now he can’t seem to move, either.

Luciano’s still watching him. The sunlight of the day pours over his face, and, in the haze of the dream, he looks prettier than ever before.

“Do you ever think about what we leave behind?” Luciano asks him. He turns back to the window. “Do you regret leaving me behind?”

“I haven’t left you behind,” Juza’s surprised by the sound of his own voice. Usually, he can’t talk in his dreams. Then, the scent of cigarettes hits his nose, and he’s astounded further.

Luciano looks at him with a fond expression.

“I haven’t,” Juza insists.

He wishes that they were in his bedroom rather than the bedroom that Luciano shares with Lansky. He could show Luciano the pin he’s kept all these years and the hat he still has hanging from the hooks above his bed. If he could prove to Luciano that he still thinks of him, thinks of Benjamin, too, then maybe the dream would let him move closer.

But Luciano turns back to the window. The lace obscures his face once more. “You could come back,” he says then. “Come find me again.”

“I will.”

Luciano laughs. The sound of it warms Juza where he stands. He’s blushing, he knows. By the Gods, he wants to stand onstage as Lansky even just one more time : stand beside Luciano and fight alongside him, fall in love with him, save him all over again.

“I’ll be waiting,” Luciano winks at him.

And then, Juza’s alarm is going off, and he’s waking up alone in his bed in the apartment he shares with no one but himself and his own belongings. He blinks up at the ceiling through the fuzziness of his drowsy eyes and lays there unmoving for some minutes. It’s only when his alarm grows annoying enough that he can feel a headache building that he rolls over and slams a sleep-heavy hand down on the snooze button. He groans, then sits up.

It’s a Monday, so he has to get ready within the next two hours to head to work. What he’d like to do, though, is bury his face back into his pillows and try to conjure up the image of Luciano again.

He ends up throwing the covers off and getting out of bed, though. His phone’s home screen tells him that Kumon’s already begun his daily string of texts and that the director’s asking when he’ll be showing up for evening practice tonight.

He’s distracted enough by the remnants of his dream that it takes him a second to remember that they’re doing _DEAD/UNDEAD_ reruns in a month and are in the middle of review practices. Misumi is filling in for Banri for this rerun, though, since Banri’s busy with overseas modeling for the next three months.

The reminder of Banri brings Luciano back to the forefront of Juza’s mind, and he slumps back onto his bed with a groan.

Something about knowing he has no choice but to wait three months – and, knowing Banri, probably closer to five months – before he can even talk about _Picaresque_ with someone who cares just as intensely for it as he does creates an uncomfortable itch in his chest. Taichi, Omi, and Sakyo all understand the importance of _Picaresque_ to the two of them, but Juza knows that the play and the memories attached to it don’t hit as hard in the same way for them.

To Taichi, it’s a reminder of the costumes he ruined for Godza. For Omi, it’s a reminder of how much he had tried to help Taichi. And for Sakyo, it’s a reminder of recovering his passion for theatre and dealing with a headache of new acquaintances.

Juza considers texting Banri, but he banishes the thought nearly as soon as he formulates it. That asshole can barely handle being honest in person. If Juza tried having a serious conversation over text with him, Banri would respond with nothing but snide comments. Even if it is about _Picaresque_.

He settles with texting Banri a simple and short message before he starts his day.

> _\- How’s work going over there?_

Banri doesn’t receive Juza’s text for another eleven hours : until it’s 5pm Juza’s time in Veludo. He’s just waking up at 10am his time in Copenhagen, and, naturally, the first thing he does upon waking is go to unlock his phone. There’s an event in one of his games, and he’s damned if he’ll let Itaru take first place for it. But a LIME notification distracts him, especially because it’s Juza that’s texted him.

Juza never texts him.

He opens it and squints through his sleepiness to read the incredibly lame message Juza’s sent him. What kind of conversation starter is ‘How’s work going over there?’ It’s worse than half of the pick-up lines Banri gets on his hook-up apps. Which, now that he thinks about it, is something that he should check before he leaves Copenhagen. Maybe a cute local would take him to a nice, non-touristy restaurant.

He types a half-hearted response and exits out of the app to get into his game. He checks the ranking, scowls at _taruchi_ in first place, and clicks into the first battle of the day. Anything to chase the lingering image of Lansky’s sultry smile from last night’s dream out of his mind.

Juza doesn’t dare open LIME until he gets home much later that night around 10pm. Practice ended up taking longer than usual since Yuki had finished Misumi’s costume and had interrupted for an impromptu fitting for all of them. So, by the time he gets his apartment door open and stumbles into the small shoes space, it’s pitch dark outside.

He leaves his jacket on the kitchen chair and opens the app as he wanders into his bedroom to change.

> _\- How’s work over there?_
> 
> _\- lame text. u sound like a 40yo on grimdr._

Juza grits his teeth and chucks his phone into the safety of his pillows. He shouldn’t have expected anything more than exactly that from Banri. He undresses from his day clothes with more force than probably looks normal. By the time he’s peeled off his practice sweats, the hot irritation that comes with talking to Banri has dissipated, though.

He throws the clothes, along with his work clothes, into his hamper and rifles through his closet for a comfortable change of clothes. He ends up dragging out the hoodie he had stolen from Banri four years ago. It’s an ugly leopard-print thing that Banri spent more time sleeping in than wearing during the day, and Juza still hates it as equally as he holds onto it for sentimental reasons.

It fits him well, just like it was a touch too big for Banri. It’s enough to appease him for the night. Juza snatches his phone out from his pillows and unlocks his phone again as he wanders out to his kitchen for the slice of cake he has waiting in the fridge.

> _\- Fuck off. Wasn’t aware I had to earn your attention._

He sets out a package of instant ramen for later and gets out a fork for the cake now.

> _\- idk im like busy dude_
> 
> _\- Like hell you are._
> 
> _\- too busy to waste my time w u_
> 
> _\- You’re the one still texting me._
> 
> _\- stfu /u/ texted /me/_

Juza decides to risk it.

> _\- Had a dream about Picaresque. Made me wanna talk._
> 
> _\- lol thats gay_

Juza closes the app.

It happens that the dream returns to him regularly. Luciano stands by that windowsill in the bedroom he shares with Lansky – in the bedroom Juza shares with him? – and the autumn air whips his hair back in tangled messes. Some nights, Juza can swear that he hears the soft lilting of Sicilian music from somewhere beyond the music that the gramophone plays. He wonders where this house is : this house that Luciano and Lansky have bought together and share, in the most intimate senses of the word.

He always wakes up before Luciano comes to join him on the bed.

It’s forgotten over the course of a single morning routine. There are other things in Juza’s life that he needs to take care of now that goes beyond his old worries of school and theatre. He’s in charge of two calligraphy classes, now. The one at town hall occurs every Wednesday from 6pm to 7pm, and the other he leads is a class he gets paid for by one of the elementary schools along his train line.

Aside from those, he still has rehearsals with the rest of Autumn Troupe and has work every week day from eight to two in one of the cafes he had once frequented with Muku in his high school and college days. He has little time to dwell on the smarmy hum of Luciano’s voice. Rather, he has little time to dwell on his memories of Banri dressed in Yuki’s costumes and standing onstage amongst their period sets.

He goes out with Taichi one night for ramen. Taichi’s midterm exams are swiftly approaching, and Juza’s aware that Taichi loves to stress-eat and stress-drink when it comes to studying. Taichi jumps on the offer to vacate his studies. It ends up being a quiet night for them. They chat simply on the going-ons of the dorms, reminisce about who’s left the dorms and who’s stayed, talk about the antics at the dorms, wonder about how those who’ve left are doing.

Taichi mentions missing Omi’s meals in the dorm ever since the man bought his own apartment up in Tokyo in order to enhance his opportunities with photography. Apparently, culinary photography is a business that pays well. Juza wonders aloud if Omi would come visit to take photos for the café, and Taichi responds enthusiastically.

It’s not until the end of the night that Juza finds his thoughts receding back, of course, to _Picaresque_.

“You ever think about our old plays?”

“Sure! We just put on _DEAD/UNDEAD_ again after all!”

Juza grins. “Yeah. Ended up going pretty well for us, didn’t it?” The entire tour for their fourth round of plays – all of the troupes together – had been successful.

“Yeah! Though, I’m kinda happy I don’t get as many ‘little brother’ type roles anymore. I like what Tsuzuru’s been giving me lately.”

“You’re damn good in them, though. I still think about your performances as Benjamin.”

Taichi slurps up the last of his broth. “Myeah, but everything about _Picaresque_ is kind of perfect at this point, dontcha think? We got things _down_.” He makes a fist pump motion at the end.

Juza hums. He works through his third taiyaki and contemplates the different performances of _Picaresque_ they’ve put on over the years. There had been the beginning when everyone had played it as enthusiastically and stereotypically ‘cool’ as they could. There had been their first closing night, in which Taichi had gone for a subtler angle, nailing it, and Banri and Juza had worked off of that energy. There were a few runs in Osaka that they had performed it more as a American movie style of immoral, free action and lost some of the dynamic between Lansky and Luciano. Most recently, Banri had taken to drawing out Luciano’s scenes with Benjamin and Lansky : softening them, making them something intimate, something too similar to Juza’s dreams for comfort.

“Woah,” Taichi breathes around the straw of his soda. “You look really scary right now. That’s so cool.”

Juza straightens up in embarrassment. “Do I?” he asks. He glances around to see if he had startled anyone, but no one seems to be looking.

“Ah!” Taichi exclaims. “I wish I had more villain roles, though. I wanna really work on looking as intimidating as you do sometimes.”

“Not really something to be envious of.”

“Ah, but for stage it’s so cool. Do you remember playing Qilong? That was _really_ cool, and Azami and I got to really do our all, too, as leads. Omi got to be a cook, too! Like in _Akebono_.”

“We haven’t put on _Mantou Fist_ in a while,” Juza agrees. It’s not his favorite play by far, but it is kind of fun to have Banri be both his subordinate and an incredibly minor role.

There’s a lull in the conversation. Juza finishes his taiyaki, and Taichi continues to sip on his soda. It’s coming close to closing, soon, and they have about ten more minutes before they _have_ to leave. Juza waves for the check.

“Have you talked with Banchan lately?”

Juza drops the taiyaki into the small amount of broth remaining in his bowl. It splashes dandan broth on his white t-shirt, and he curses. Taichi snatches a few napkins and offers them.

“Sorry! Wow, you really got freaked hearing Banri’s name.”

Juza grimaces. “Didn’t mean to. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! I take it you guys aren’t talking a lot anymore?”

“We talk enough.”

Taichi eyes him. “So, when’s the last time you guys like _talked_ talked?”

Juza should have known that Taichi would be able to hone in on this immediately. The guy was way too good at reading the atmosphere and adjusting accordingly. It’s what made him such a fantastic actor : what got him into Godza in the first place. He tries to turn away from him a little to hide his facial reactions.

“Few months ago, I guess.”

“Woah,” Taichi says intelligently, and Juza snorts. “Banchan texts me like every few days with lots of pics and everything.”

That doesn’t make Juza feel especially great. He merely shrugs and accepts the check and his card back when it’s brought back over. He busies himself with signing at the dotted line.

“You good to go?” he asks.

Taichi finishes his soda with an impressively long sip and gasps for air once he’s done. “Now I am! Thanks for paying, Juza. My wallet’s been low on cash trying to make up for missing Omi’s cooking.”

They wander out of the restaurant together. Veludo is a nice place to walk around this late of night. A few theatres put on evening street performances for the late-nighters that gather for street food and night shopping. He and Taichi pause to watch a particularly entertaining performance before brushing on through the night crowds. They’ve already agreed to part ways at the station.

“Really think you and Banchan should talk more,” Taichi tells him as they come in sight of the station. “He’s been avoiding talking about you lately, too. Maybe you guys had a fight you didn’t realize you had.”

“Don’t even know how that could happen with us.”

“I don’t know. Omi got kinda angry at me one time because I kept not picking up on some of his nonverbal cues. Maybe it’s like that?”

That sounds very uncharacteristic of Omi, but Taichi lowers his voice a little while admitting the fact, so Juza’s ready to believe it’s true. But with him and Banri, he’s not sure they can survive even a normal conversation without arguing in some capacity. To have an argument without yelling about it seems very not them.

“Dunno. Maybe.”

He and Taichi say their goodbyes, and Juza watches Taichi walk off into the night before he goes to turn into Veludo Station.

For a moment, he pauses. It’s an odd thing to remember on a night like tonight : stomach full of ramen and mind and heart pleasantly stimulated by Taichi’s eager company. But the thought still comes unbidden and, if Juza were to discuss this with anyone, he’d call it unwanted, too.

This is where Banri and he met for the first time. And it’s already been seven whole years since then. As he pauses, he glances over to the trash can where Banri had been lingering on that night : waiting for Juza to get back from, now that Juza thinks about it, Muku’s closing night performance with the rest of Summer Troupe.

He heads on into the station and swipes his card for his train.

On the train, he finds himself pulling out his phone and, before he knows it, he’s staring down at his LIME chat with Banri. The last text is Banri’s stupid ‘ _lol thats gay_ ,’ dated two months ago. He wonders how many times Banri has opened this chat since then, checking for a reply, or if Banri forgot about their conversation the moment it ended. With Banri’s shitty memory, Juza wouldn’t be surprised by the latter.

> _\- What time is it now over there?_

The response comes much faster than he had expected, and he blinks a few times at the screen before he can process the text.

> _\- u gotta work on your conversation starters_
> 
> _\- You’re the one responding to them._
> 
> _\- no shit dumbass its rude to not respond to ppl when they text u_

Was that it, Juza thinks. Was Banri angry with him for not following up that stupid text of his with an explanation and a longer conversation?

> _\- Sorry I guess_
> 
> _\- for what_
> 
> _\- Nothing I guess_
> 
> _\- god i hate texting you sm_
> 
> _\- What do you want me to say?_
> 
> _\- idfk whyre u texting me in the first place? cant sleep wo me?_
> 
> _\- Fuck off. We haven’t shared a room in years._
> 
> _\- well then enlighten me_
> 
> _\- Taichi told me to text you, alright? Said it was weird that we haven’t talked in a while. He says you text him every few days._
> 
> _\- yeah whats it to you? weve nothing to talk about_

That _definitely_ sounds like Banri’s mad about something, but the doors of the train are opening, and it’s Juza’s stop. He pockets his phone and slips out the train just as the doors start to close. His apartment is a ten minute walk from the station.

It’s a nice neighborhood, for the most part. There isn’t much around, but it’s quiet and dark. Juza can’t see the stars if he looks up, but he never could while living closer to Veludo, either. One day he’d like to live a few years in a place where he could see the stars any night he likes. Maybe he’ll take Kumon out on a vacation before the winter comes.

When he gets to his apartment, he doesn’t immediately return to the text conversation, either. He takes off his shoes and coat and immediately goes to his fridge for a cream soda. He carries it into his bedroom and, slowly, starts his process of undressing and getting into his comfort clothes for the night. It’s when he picks Banri’s old sweatshirt off his desk chair that he remembers why he’s in a semi-bad mood.

Then, he immediately worries that Banri’s gotten pissed off waiting for a response again.

> _\- Sorry had to walk home_
> 
> _\- oh? and you can’t fucking text while you walk?_
> 
> _\- What’s your problem?_
> 
> _\- ex-fucking-cuse me?_

Perhaps, that hadn’t been the best response.

> _\- Why are you mad?_
> 
> _\- gee i really fucking wonder_
> 
> _\- Is it because I left you on read last time?_
> 
> _\- no_
> 
> _\- Then I don’t know._

There’s a second that passes, then another, and then he’s waited over a minute for a response that doesn’t seem to be coming. Juza huffs and sits down on his bed. Maybe he’ll go to bed earlier tonight. With the dreams he’s been having lately, it’s been harder and harder to stay awake throughout the day.

Sure enough, he dreams again that night. For once, though, Luciano’s not waiting for him in the bedroom. Instead, Juza finds himself sitting on a back porch or something similar to a back porch. The wooden boards underneath him are painted white, and the world is dead silent despite it being in the middle of what looks to be a lovely summer day.

He’s not sure where he is until he hears a hum from behind him and he becomes aware of Luciano’s presence, moving towards him and coming down to sit beside him. Juza stares at the man.

He’s not in his usual suit at all. Juza’s never seen Luciano in anything else, but here Luciano sits : unbuttoned white dress shirt and black suspenders and all. He’s never seen Banri wear something like this, either.

“Do you miss it?” Luciano asks, staring out across the open, backyard and where it eventually meets cornfields. The countryside light is stunning on his face.

Juza’s throat is tight, but he can speak. “Yes,” he admits.

Luciano laughs jovially. “You’re a real darling,” he purrs, and Juza feels his face and ears burn. Luciano turns to him, smirk still on his face and an eyebrow raised playfully. “You know that?”

Juza doesn’t know. “Uh.” This is off-script, and, though he’s gotten much better with ad libs, he can’t handle this one. He’s not sure why, but now his chest’s tightening, too.

“Do you miss _me_?” Luciano asks, leaning in closer.

Juza swallows. “Yes,” he admits. Luciano leans in further, eyes lowering to linger on his lips and, then, beginning to flutter shut. A hand slips onto Juza’s knee. Juza’s heart stammers in his chest. “I’m not Lansky,” he rushes out.

Luciano stops and opens his eyes but doesn’t pull away. They’re embarrassingly close to each other’s face : not that Juza hasn’t seen Banri this close before while fighting, but this is completely different.

“Lansky and I were written for each other.” Luciano says it so easily like admitting love is something that’s lived and not suffered. “And I was written for your Banri as much as I was written for Lansky. I don’t see the difference.”

“That’s different.” Juza’s palms are starting to sweat. He wishes Luciano would lean back just a little and let him breathe. “Luciano and Lansky fall in love and marry.”

A small little sad smile pulls on Luciano’s lips. Juza’s suddenly terrified of what he’ll say next. “You think that your world’s Banri doesn’t love you?” Juza can’t respond. “You think you don’t love him back?”

Juza wakes in a hot, sweaty bundle of his sheets. His heart is still thudding in his chest, and he pulls his arms free of the blankets – sweaty palms and all – before kicking the covers off. His entire body feels like it’s burning. Still disoriented from the heat and the embarrassment of the dream – and, if he’d admit it, the heat specifically between his legs – he stumbles over to the air conditioning unit in his window and, despite it being the middle of autumn, turns it on.

He stands there for a few minutes. The cold air feels good on his chest and neck. He turns around and lets the cold air blow for a while on his back. Going back to bed doesn’t seem the most enticing right now, for fear of hearing Luciano’s voice once more promising him things that Juza can’t even allow himself to want.

Then, in the darkness of the room, his phone screen lights up.

He crosses over to his bed and picks it up. It’s a LIME notification from Banri. He swipes to open his phone and stares down at the message.

> _\- im pissed that you never asked me to stay in japan, you fucking idiot. im pissed you didnt ask me to move in w you. are u fucking happy now?_
> 
> _\- I miss you._

Juza’s not sure why he sends the text. He blames it on Luciano and on _Picaresque_ and even a little on what Taichi had been saying earlier that evening, though it feels weeks ago now.

It takes Banri a long time to respond. Juza decides to drink what’s left of the cream soda on his desk and turn on a light to read over some of his scripts. It takes ten minutes, but Banri does respond.

> _\- tf u mean in saying that_
> 
> _\- I mean I miss you_
> 
> _\- too fucking late. dont take this so seriously. im not gay or anything. i fucking hate you dont text me again_

Juza rolls his eyes. Banri can swear up and down that he’s “straight,” but Juza’s seen the fucking mens’ underwear magazines Banri tried to hide under his mattress back when they shared a dorm. He knows Banri has zero interest in the ero games Itaru plays unless they have paths for the guys in them, too. And he’s _seen_ Banri eye him way too much while getting dressed for the sentiment behind it to be mere jealousy.

> _\- You know I’m gay I don’t know why you bother trying to hide it._
> 
> _\- i SAID im not into that shit. take a hint_
> 
> _\- Had a dream about Picaresque tonight._
> 
> _\- what the Fuck dude._
> 
> _\- What?_
> 
> _\- dont try and change the subject and blow me off like that_
> 
> _\- I’m trying to tell you that I miss you, dipshit. When you come home, can you let me take you out?_
> 
> _\- what like on a date? hell no_
> 
> _\- Settsu, be honest for once._

There’s another long break. A few times, the dots come up to tell him that Banri’s typing, but they vanish not soon after each time. Eventually, the dots never resurface. Juza lets his screen turn off on its timer.

He loses himself in his scripts for a bit.

Then, Banri texts him.

> _\- fine but this doesn’t prove anything_
> 
> _\- When do you get back?_
> 
> _\- in like a week. i fly in on the fourth._
> 
> _\- Your family picking you up?_
> 
> _\- taking an uber_
> 
> _\- I can meet you there._
> 
> _\- that looks gay no_
> 
> _\- I just asked you out on a date and you accepted. You don’t get to back out of shit by calling it ‘gay’ now._
> 
> _\- christ, dude. fine. whatever. you better take me somewhere with good sushi. if i dont like what i get, you can forget about this whole ‘boyfriend’ bullshit_
> 
> _\- Never said anything about being my boyfriend. You’d like to?_
> 
> _\- FUCK you_

**Author's Note:**

> grad work is slowly killing me, so for the last month ive been unable to work on submissions for this week :( i have days one, two, and five done so far, and im hoping to figure out a way to write more of the days' prompts. here's to hoping!!
> 
> the idea of juza dreaming about luciano is something that i love so much. everything about picaresque hits really hard for me (maybe bc my special interest as a child was gangsters??). the fact that canonically juza gets lost in lansky's character even outside of performances makes my heart ache. banris bday card w the picaresque pin made me LOSE my MIND i couldnt talk abt anything else for days. i hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote over the weekend!


End file.
